


no closer to heaven

by hoodedjustice



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: 4.15 - Outcast, Alternate take for 4.15 - Outcast, Coming Out, Friendship, Funerals, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 04:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9218282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoodedjustice/pseuds/hoodedjustice
Summary: There was something about visits to Earth that made John nervous and contemplative.Or, the one where Rodney accompanies John back to Earth and John opens himself up to scrutiny for once.(an alternate take on episode 15 of season 4 where John's father dies)





	

**Author's Note:**

> blahhhhhh I've had this sitting on my desktop forever and it feels unfinished by I dunno what to do with it so I'm just gonna post it here.
> 
> it's a very strong headcanon of mine that Sheppard is gay but just very private about it, and I really like the idea of Rodney being the first person John tells so. here we are.
> 
> hope you like and as always I'd appreciate any comments y'all wanna throw my way

“Are you sure about this?”

John felt sort of awkward standing there, sweatpants in hand as he haphazardly tossed together a duffle bag for Earth. Less than thirty minutes ago, Colonel Carter had given him the unfortunate news of his father’s death. Shockingly, it had felt like a sucker punch to the gut when all John had really expected was a sting.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Rodney ‘pain-in-the-ass’ McKay, as Ronan sometimes referred to him, stood in the doorway to John’s quarters, arms crossed and expression bearing that special brand of Dr. McKay worried-but-not-for-our-mortal-lives anxiety.

John was beginning to wonder how exactly Rodney had managed to not only learn of Sheppard’s father’s death so quickly, but also subsequently submit a request to travel back to Earth with John for the funeral. McKay’s miracles and wonder-working was usually limited to the scientific realm, but given the circumstances, John wasn’t complaining.

“Only if you want to come,” John finally said, stuffing the pants into his duffle bag and finally looking back at the doctor. “It’s not- I’m fine, you know. We weren’t really that close.”

Rodney inched closer into the room, that ever present enquiring look on his face focused completely on John. It made John nervous. He was an open book for the most part, but every book had its plot twists. John wasn’t exactly keen on being read by McKay.

Or maybe he was, because if he really wanted to keep Rodney out of his life– his family, his home life, everything that John kept strictly under wraps– then he’d be telling Rodney to stay here instead of agreeing to his company.

“Still sucks,” Rodney eventually said, letting out a breath that informed John that Rodney was finally letting go of some of the tension he was feeling about the situation. “I just- I know you would be here for me if something happened to Jeannie.”

John smiled, more to himself than anything as he zipped his duffle bag shut. Yeah. Yeah he would be. 

John said after a second, “Better go pack your bag. Wheels up in twenty.”

•

They were on a plane flight, first class. McKay had incorrectly assumed it was a treat of the military. John didn’t care to correct him; Rodney would find out about the Sheppard family’s financial status soon enough.

For the time being Rodney was absorbed in a myriad of newsfeeds and science papers, taking time to catch up on some developments on Earth that had seemed quite secondary back in the Pegasus galaxy. It was a good idea, but John couldn’t focus on words on a page to save his life at the moment. 

There was a reason John didn’t do family events, holidays, didn’t come home or write letters or anything. He didn’t like thinking about home; if you could call it that. He’d thought of his childhood for some time now as a strange waiting period: the years John spent waiting for his real life to begin.

“Why can’t you be more like Dave?”

John shifted uncomfortably at the unwelcome memories floating through his head.

More like Dave, indeed. Dave did everything right: classes, extracurriculars, college applications, girlfriends. John flunked out of high school physics, never once brought a girl home, and went straight for the military route over college the second he had a chance. His family likely had gotten the impression that John was an idiot, and John was fine letting them believe that. 

His father had picked up certain hints, such as John’s rebellious attitude towards education, but had...missed other details. That had always been a point of frustration for John. Why couldn’t his parents read between the lines? Nancy had, and subsequently had filed for divorce

“Hey.” John was knocked out of his musings by Rodney kicking his ankle, and when Sheppard looked up Rodney was nodding to the stewardess standing at the end of their aisle holding a menu. Rodney gestured at her with a jab of his thumb, “Hungry?”

“No thanks,” John said after a second. He wasn’t in the mood to continue basking in the luxury of first class and he figured McKay could manage to bask enough for the both of them. 

He felt too sick to eat anyway.

“Your loss,” Rodney said after a minute, before going to babble to the stewardess his request followed by a heavy list of allergy accommodations and special preferences. It almost made John smile. He wasn’t really eager to go to the funeral, but some small part of him was reassured. No matter what happened, McKay was sure to steal the spotlight with some sort of antics borne out of his superiority complex and genuine social issues. And that, at least, would feel normal.

•

When they finally arrived and John climbed out of the car, followed by Rodney, the familiar weight of apprehension comes to rest on his shoulders.

Home. 

As if.

“Your family lives here?” Rodney asked quietly, voice sounding almost far away in comparison the sinking anxious feelings that gripped John’s attention span. He nodded faintly, eyes stalking up and down the house and manicured lawn before settling on the approaching, tastefully dressed figure.

“Dave,” John greeted, and his brother wrangled a wry smile onto his face. Faker, John thought venomously for half a second before he reminded himself to play it cool.

“John, didn’t think you’d make it.” Dave offered a hand chivalrously, and John took it. “I send messages to your unit chief Peterson, but uh. They don’t always seem to reach you.”

As John replied, “I came as soon as I could,” he realized that Dave was surreptitiously eyeing McKay, who was still ogling at the estate they stood on the edge of, in addition to the decadent funeral decor; everything from floral arrangements to clothing to catering. Dad never could hold a plain party, John mused. 

“And…” Dave prompted, nodding to Rodney.

“Where are my manners?” John half smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets after an awkwardly abandoned gesture to Rodney. “This is Rodney, a colleague of mine. He’s, uh-”

“A civilian researcher,” Rodney filled in quickly, reaching out to shake Dave’s hand, “Dr. Rodney McKay.” He didn’t extend any niceties beyond that; furthermore, the arrogant tone had returned to his voice and John had never been more glad to hear it. No doubt Rodney was the smartest person at this shindig, and John knew more than a few people here that deserved to be knocked down a peg.

“Dave Sheppard,” Dave replied.

“My big brother,” John added quietly, struggling to not let bitterness color his words. There was about 30 seconds of exchanged glances, tense silence, and eyebrow movement before Rodney straightened up and smiled tightly.

“I’ll, uh, give you guys a second then.” He started off in a bee-line towards the concentration of guests and John pointedly ignored the way being alone with his brother felt distinctly just as dangerous as being on a Wraith hive ship with no one to watch his back. 

“Listen, John-” Dave started and really, he couldn’t help it, John rolled his eyes and looked away. “John. Come on. We’ve got some stuff to talk about, and would it kill you to relax a little? It’s dad’s wake, for God’s sake.”

“What am I supposed to do?” John asked, lifting a hand out of his pocket to wave to the people milling about the perfect green lawn and patio he remembered running around as a kid. “I haven’t seen most of these people in years. I don’t really...they’re not really…” He trailed off, stuck trying to find a way to say I don’t care about them without being overly explicit.

“Who’s fault is that?” Dave’s tone turned passive-aggressive; civility and manners edged closer and closer to the chasm between them and if John pushed hard enough, they’d fall right in. “I know you’re busy with your...your top secret work, or whatever, but. Would it kill you to write, or something?”

“It might,” John said with a shrug and his easy, joking tone he used with team when things looked bleak. It wasn’t a crowd pleaser with Dave.

“Listen, just… enjoy the service. We can talk later when less people around.”

“Sure. Lookin’ forward to it,” John said. He didn’t mean it in the least. 

•

“Did you know this food is free?” Rodney asked, wolfing down what John was pretty sure was McKay’s fourth quiche. It was a mix of weird and normal; normal to watch McKay over-enjoy his food but weird to know said food was the expensive catering of John’s father’s wake.

“Yeah,” John replied absently, sipping on his drink and declining one of Rodney’s offered treats.

They’d milled about for a while until Rodney had spotted the food table and John had found the alcohol. He wasn’t a big drinker but had decided a nice buzz would ease the tension of this suffocating masquerade.

“You really grew up here? This place was your childhood home?” Rodney asked between mouthfuls. John nodded slowly, staring up the second floor windows of the house that used to belong to his room.

“One of them,” He said aloud, gaze returning to the yard around them, and then settling on a sight that made Sheppard’s gut twist with unreasonable panic. He leaned towards McKay minutely, murmured out of the side of his mouth. “I told you I have an ex-wife, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Rodney said, chowing down on the last of his buffet plate, “Why?”

“Here she comes now.”

Nancy was a force to be reckoned with, John had known this when marrying her. She could be kind too, and in fact mostly was, but that didn’t do much to curb John’s instinctual worry whenever they encountered each other.

“John!” she called, before making her way through the last dregs of attendees that stood between John, Rodney, and all the other people. “John,” she said as she got closer. “Hi. I wasn’t sure if you were going to be here.”

When she came to a stop in front of them, she cocked her head ever so slightly, eyes flitting between Rodney and John with a hint of questioning. John’s eyes widened instantly, and he could feel a flush rising to his ears and cheekbones; he shook his head vehemently.

“Nancy,” he returned politely. “Hi. Yeah, no, I was able to wrangle some time off. This is,” John held out an arm to indicate Rodney, “This is Doctor Rodney McKay. He’s a co-worker of mine. We work together.”

“You realize that’s the definition of co-worker, right?” Rodney said dryly, crumpling the now empty paper plate in one hand and offering the other to Nancy. “Pleasure to meet you, I’m certain.” Rodney’s cell phone started ringing in his pocket and without further ado, he waved them off to go aside and take the call. He didn’t even spare an apologetic smile. John was beginning to wonder why he thought bringing Rodney was a good idea.

“He doesn’t exactly look like the kind of guy the military would hire,” Nancy murmured after a moment, smiling a little as she stepped closer to John. He offered her an arm, and she hooked hers with his, and together they started to walk over the lawn. 

“Trust me,” John said, “For what he lacks in manners, he more than makes up for in IQ. Guys like him put my MENSA entrance offer to shame.” Nancy laughed at that, and it made John’s heart ache a little. Maybe he hadn’t ever loved her romantically, but he did miss her company, and her companionship. For all her flaws (her biggest one not even being her fault,) Nancy had been a wonderful wife and John wished her nothing but wellness.

She smiled briefly at the joke and leaned into him.

“So...just colleagues?” she asked quietly, letting her tone drift into insinuating territory. 

“We’re friends,” John amended after a moment. “Mostly because we work together all the time, I guess. But just friends, he’s not really...my type.” Even as he said it, Sheppard’s voice was hushed, and he kept glancing nervously towards the other people occupying the back lawn.

Nancy lead them to a stop and turned to stand face to face with him; John was struck by how sad she looked when she looked at him. 

“Nance?” John asked softly. “Y’okay?”

“Yes.” She smiled, the expression every bit as melancholy as the look in her eyes. “I just… I really hope things work out for you, John. You forget sometimes, I think, that I know how you operate. This can’t be easy for you.”

John opened his mouth, ready to argue or refute or maybe even agree, but she just shook her head to cut him off. 

“Listen, I just hope you find in yourself to be happy someday, alright? And...someone who makes you happy too.”

She sounded so sad, looked at him so tenderly, that John’s chest felt tight. He wished so badly that he could have stayed with her, that things between them could have worked out. Nancy was a good person. His parents had liked her. 

It would have been easier.

•

Rodney found John in his old bedroom half an hour later; the good doctor sauntered in carrying a drink and dabbing a napkin at his tie where he’d spilled his drink a little.

“You know,” Rodney said as he drifted inside John’s childhood bedroom, “Some of these people here really think they’re a lot smarter than they actually are.”

“Is that a fact?” John asked. He was sitting on his bed, back propped up against the wall. His tie was undone, draped around his shoulders, suit jacket folded on the mattress beside him and top two buttons of his shirt popped.

“That’s a fact,” Rodney returned easily, drifting around the room to inspect it. “Man. Is this place exactly how you left it? I kind of got the impression your family wasn’t the kind to hang on to this sort of stuff.” He used the hand not holding his drink to touch airplane models on the bookshelf, trailing fingers of the Johnny Cash poster.

He paused when he came to a telescope at the window and turned to say something about it, but shut his mouth when he saw Sheppard’s face. John was staring at the wall blankly, uncharacteristically quiet. Even in the face of danger and death, Sheppard made jokes, tried to keep up spirits, looked for solutions.

It felt like Rodney was seeing John accept defeat for the first time. Even worse, this wasn’t the kind of situation that Rodney could save them from. 

“John?”

John said nothing. Rodney set his drink down on the small desk, and dragged the desk chair over close to the bed in John’s line of sight.

“Listen…” Rodney sat down in the chair and bit his lip, cycling through what to say. This wasn’t science, this wasn’t a galaxy-wide crisis, this wasn’t his forte. But he was a genius. If he needed to be here for John, he was going to be here for John. “I know you said you’re not close with your dad, and that’s fine, but. He died. That can mess someone up. So I’m gonna sit here until you’re ready to talk.”

John turned his head to look away from McKay, not spitefully but not with any warmth, either. He was uncomfortable, anxious, hurting.

Ever since Rodney had jumped up to volunteer to go back to Earth, Sheppard had concluded that he was going to come out to Rodney. He was. He could do it, he knew he could, and he wanted to, too. It wasn’t fun, hiding this part of himself. His dad wasn’t around to disapprove anymore. Dave wasn’t really a part of his life. 

He found himself repeating the same two words in his head; over and over and over and over… His heart rate steadily increased the whole time, until it bubbled up out of his mouth and fell right off his tongue:

“I’m gay.”

To say Rodney was shocked was an understatement.

“I, uh, I- You are?” John shot him that familiar frown look that seemed to communicate really? in silence. Rodney sat up straighter, shaping up. “I mean. Okay. Yeah.” He didn’t really know what else to say; no one had ever come out to him before so formally, most of the gay people Rodney knew had already been in committed relationships and there’d never been direct discussion about it.

John sat up further and drew his legs into sit criss-cross on the bed, feeling remarkably as though he was 16 all over again; anxiously wishing that he liked girls and fearfully wondering about what his future held.

“I never told my dad,” John said after a second. “And Dave, he has...no clue.”

“Well who does know?” McKay asked out of caution, not wanting to spread any secrets by mistake. John gave him a look, one that was strangely vulnerable. “Just me?” Rodney said, disbelief slicing into his tone of voice. 

“Nancy too,” John clarified, “But not because I told her. She connected the dots.”

“But no one else?”

John shrugged. “No one else.”

Rodney leaned back in the chair, letting out a sigh and shoulders slumping. He hadn’t really come to earth expecting the man who was probably his best friend to come out to him. Much less in said best friend’s childhood bedroom mid-funeral.

“I could try filling in some blanks myself,” McKay finally said after a while. “But, you know us scientists. We’re fond of data collection and research. Do you...do you wanna talk about it?”

 

“What’s there to talk about?” John said hesitantly after a moment. Rodney couldn’t help but muffle a bitter laugh. For all John’s complaints about Rodney’s ability to talk too much, John could learn a thing or two about holding conversation. 

“Whatever you want,” Rodney replied, gentler, looking at Sheppard again and leaning in to listen more closely. “How you knew, when you knew, why you’ve kept it a secret. Why now and why me? Whatever’s running through your head.”

John nodded slowly, almost as if he liked the sound of that. Like it was the correct, gentle prodding he needed to open up.

“I think I knew I could tell you after you got sick with that parasite and the only person’s name you could remember was mine…”

•

John jumped in surprise when Rodney sat down across from him, carrying two boxes of cereal and a plate with a waffle on it.

“Can you believe this place has a waffle maker in it’s complimentary breakfast buffet?”

“No,” John said slowly, glancing at the clock again. It was five minutes after six in the morning; John was awake because military life had instilled an early riser attitude into him. Rodney however, a civilian scientist with a less-than-subtle distaste for military institutions, ran on no such internal schedule. Why Rodney had gotten out of bed so early was a mystery.

“Hotels don’t have that in Canada, huh?” John asked, reaching over with his fork to slice off a bite of waffle for himself and pointedly ignoring Rodney’s irritated huff. 

“Hell no,” Rodney answered, proceeding to drown the rest of his waffle in maple syrup. “So, what’s the plan? Are you gonna visit your brother, are we heading back? I only asked for a few days off ‘cause I wasn’t sure what you had in mind.”

“That’s more than enough,” Sheppard assured him, setting his fork down on his paper plate and sighing. He’d gone out for a run earlier and grabbed a shower after, all before breakfast and still he didn’t quite feel himself. John idly wished that the simmering, ever-present feeling of muffled dread in his stomach would slink away and disappear for good. 

Throwing himself into work was his go-to coping method for grief of any sort; and when it came to his father, well. John wasn’t exactly inclined to feel bad. In fact, the dread and sick feeling likely had more to do with the fact that John had yet to confront the idea of going with Dave today to hear about their father’s will.

Watching Rodney tear into the waffle, John spoke up again to add, “Today I’m supposed to meet Dave at my dad’s lawyer’s office. Reading of the will and everything. I’m pretty sure I know what it says, but, you know.” Rodney made a muffle sound of affirmation, cuing John to continue with “Anyway...moral support would be appreciated.”

Rodney glanced up from his waffle, briefly serious as he nodded while saying, “Of course,” before returning his focus to breakfast. 

John huffed out a laugh.

The past two days had been a medley of revisiting unpleasant people and unpleasant memories. At least there was always Rodney.


End file.
